


To Serve in Heaven

by Enfilade



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cults, Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, Mercenaries, Power Dynamics, Religion, Religion Kink, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Secret Solenoid, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22070302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enfilade/pseuds/Enfilade
Summary: What do you do when you've devoted your entire soul to serving the Warrior Primus...except for that one little part that insists on lusting after your employer?  A gift for Secret Solenoid 2019.
Relationships: Star Saber/Tyrest
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36
Collections: Secret Solenoid '19-'20





	To Serve in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Helenadorf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helenadorf/gifts).



To Serve in Heaven 

Lockdown was a practical mech. 

He had to be, if he had any hope of avoiding the restricting, suffocating nonsense of the Decepticon rank and file. He couldn’t afford to be overly picky about his customers. As long as their money was good, he wouldn’t have to return to Cybertron and ask for his old job back. 

The last thing Lockdown wanted was to return to the ranks of the army where some idiot commander would try to tell him how to fight. The odds were twenty to one that Lockdown would already know how to fight better than his so-called superior. Promotions would offer no escape. Lockdown didn’t want the responsibility of facing Megatron’s wrath over a bit of bad luck. Worst of all, the Decepticons didn’t pay much more than a fuel ration and a nominal stipend. Lockdown intended to spend his life living better than that. 

So Lockdown made his living as a gun fore hire, and he was willing to forgive quite a lot if a customer paid his invoices promptly. Chief Justice Tyrest paid with delightfully predictable regularity, and all he asked in return was for Lockdown’s crew to find Titans and strip them down for parts. And, of course, for Lockdown to show some patience for his eccentricities. It was still a sweet gig. 

Then Star Saber showed up on Luna One, and Lockdown found his patience sorely tested. 

# 

Star Saber was the favoured of Primus. 

The Circle of Light had been wrong. They had done the universe no favours by withdrawing into a cloistered existence of prayer and contemplation. All that was needed for evil to thrive in the universe was for holy mechanisms to stand by and do nothing. 

There was so very _much_ evil that needed to be purged. 

Star Saber had regretted Dai Atlas’s intractability. His inability to grasp the will of the Divine. Or perhaps it was simply cowardice that had caused Dai Atlas to lead his people in a fall from grace. 

Regardless, Tyrest’s Legislators had made short work of the Circle of Light. The Legislators were instruments of Primus’s punishing right arm. Just as Star Saber was Primus’s sword. Unfaltering. Hallowed. Pure… 

But the thoughts Star Saber had been having about Chief Justice Tyrest since he’d arrived on Luna One were anything _but_ pure. 

Star Saber had been contemplating nothing save sacred retribution when he’d contacted Tyrest to come sit in judgment upon the Circle of Light. Afterwards, Tyrest had invited Star Saber to stay with him, and Saber had accepted because it was the logical thing to do. Their partnership was divinely ordained. Tyrest, to judge the wicked; Star Saber, to carry out the sentence. 

If Star Saber’s optic had occasionally been drawn to the sweep of Tyrest’s wings, to the majesty of his crown, then surely that could be forgiven. Chief Justice Tyrest was a very striking mech, the better to embody the nobility of justice. Primus had given Star Saber optics with which to see. There was no sin in using them. 

No, the sin had come when Star Saber’s thoughts had strayed to Tyrest a little too often. Those times alone in his hab suite where, instead of meditating on the glory of Primus, he had thought instead of what it might be to lay Tyrest down on his berth and worship him instead. 

# 

For most of his life, Chief Justice Tyrest had considered himself to be agnostic. To maintain his position as a neutral arbiter, he’d weighed the available evidence and decided after much contemplation that he could neither prove that a God existed, nor rule that such a thing was impossible. Therefore, instead of worshiping a God (who might not exist), he had instead dedicated his life to building and maintaining a system of justice on Cybertron. Should Primus reveal himself at some future date, Tyrest would offer up this good work as proof of his virtue. 

The Aequitas computer had been the culmination of his life’s work: a machine that could determine guilt or innocence. It would do away with the fallibilities of judges and juries. It could not be intimidated, manipulated, bribed, or misled. It did not rely on any evidence save the mind of the accused. It would absolve the innocent and point out the guilty. 

Tyrest had not expected that Aequitas would also reveal his own sins. Wrongdoing that Tyrest had himself committed without even being aware of his crimes. 

For each and every mechanism found guilty by Aequitas was constructed cold. Tyrest had made their creation possible by discovering a way to tap the Matrix and birth artificially created sparks. The guilt was not Nova Prime’s, for asking if he could do it. The guilt was his, for doing so in a way that spawned generations of criminals. Tyrest’s discovery had created these monsters. It was his fault that they existed, bringing pain and chaos to the universe. 

It was his responsibility to correct his mistake. 

He had been ruminating on _how_ he might do so when Primus first spoke to him. He remembered the moment well. He had been sitting at his desk in his quarters, and his mind had started to wander, his thoughts straying in circles which rapidly devolved into a downward spiral into a pit of self-hatred and despair. Tyrest knew he could not indulge himself in an evening spent wallowing in guilt. Though he felt as though he deserved it, he knew that it was ultimately paralyzing: he would do nothing to fix his error if he simply meditated on his own shortcomings. His guilt was compounded by every day the cold-constructed yet lived; by every crime they committed before he could stop them. 

Long ago, Tyrest discovered that pain helped to focus his thoughts. He’d relied on it ever since he’d begun to suspect the truth: that he was responsible for starting a chain reaction of events that had greatly increased criminality in the society he’d sworn to protect. Already it was becoming difficult to repair the little bore-holes he made in his frame before people noticed them. His cape helped. 

Tyrest raised his palm to his forehead and…almost playfully…activated his finger drill. 

Then a wave of insight illuminated Chief Justice Tyrest’s mind, for that was the first time he heard the Voices of the Guiding Hand, and the very first Voice he heard was that of Primus Himself. 

In that moment, Tyrest had his evidence. God was real, and despite his sins, Tyrest’s great work was still pleasing to the Almighty. Primus and the Guiding Hand would help Tyrest make amends. Cybertronian society could still be salvaged. 

Yet a lifetime of agnosticism had not prepared Chief Justice Tyrest for a meaningful relationship with Primus and His Associates. Tyrest needed help. A strong right hand, a weapon against the wicked, a beacon in the darkness… 

Primus, in His infinite mercy, heard Tyrest’s prayers. 

And Primus sent him Star Saber. 

Star Saber might even be the answer to a prayer that Tyrest had only recently thought to ask. 

# 

Lockdown always returned to Luna One after completing each mission. It was an easy way to bring Tyrest the Titan parts he wanted and update him on his progress at the same time. 

Lockdown was not surprised to see Star Saber still present on Luna One. The doctor, however, was a new addition. Lockdown was not sure how he felt about having another Autobot around. One—Star Saber—was bad enough. Lockdown was starting to feel _outnumbered._

Plus, the doctor didn’t seem to be quite all there. This could be good or bad. The thought of tormenting Tyrest’s new medic sounded like a bit of fun to Lockdown. Luna One tended to be a stodgy place—Tyrest was a very serious mechanism, and Star Saber really wasn’t much for laughs. 

Lockdown just had to be sure that this Pharma could take a joke. He’d seen the mech transforming his hands. Nobody installed a chainsaw like that unless they were planning to use it. Lockdown wondered if the Autobot medic might be more than met the eye. 

Perhaps Lockdown could spend the evening finding out just how dangerous Pharma was. Just how far Lockdown might be able to push him in the name of entertainment. 

To that end, Lockdown was roaming through the corridors searching for Pharma. His tracker showed the medic’s spark signature in the large recreation room. Lockdown swore nobody used that room when he and his crew weren’t here on Luna One. Until Pharma, he supposed. Unlike Tyrest and Star Saber, Pharma might know how to relax. 

Lockdown opened the rec room door and stopped in his tracks. 

Pharma was there, all right, standing in front of a shelf of datapads and holodisks. His left hand was up in the air as if he had been about to choose an item off the shelf before he saw something that stopped him dead in his tracks. Lockdown followed Pharma’s line of sight and saw… 

_Yeah, that’d do it._

On the far side of the room, Tyrest had Star Saber in his arms. Star Saber’s faceplate dangled uselessly from a strap. Lockdown still had no idea what Star Saber’s mouth looked like, though, because Tyrest’s lips covered it completely. 

# 

Star Saber could not spend the evening in his hab suite thinking about what it might be like to be defiled by Chief Justice Tyrest. 

He had tried to pray, but prayer had failed him. Images of Tyrest’s strong jaw and commanding presence and statuesque frame kept invading his thoughts. Star Saber needed an external distraction to turn his mind from its sinful fantasies. 

He would find their new associate, Pharma, and he would engage the medic with a little light conversation. Specifically, he hoped to ascertain whether Pharma already venerated their Creator, or whether Star Saber had been called to minister to Pharma as well as Tyrest. 

Plan in place, Star Saber searched the corridors of Luna One—starting on the side furthest away from the landing strip. Star Saber had little desire to encounter Lockdown. He understood that beings such as the mercenary could serve their purpose in Primus’s divine plan, but salvation was not for the likes of Lockdown. The mercenary was in all likelihood beyond redemption. 

When Star Saber entered the lounge, it was not Pharma he saw seated on the large couch before a shimmering assortment of meditation crystals. It was Chief Justice Tyrest. 

Star Saber had not expected to see Tyrest outside of his hab at this point in the cycle. Taken aback, he was not sure what to say. Perhaps Tyrest was in meditation and did not wish to be disturbed. 

The chief justice turned his crowned head and smiled to see Star Saber standing in the doorway. “Star Saber,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “Come.” 

Star Saber obeyed. He took a seat at the other end of the couch, ignoring the images his imagination had conjured up at Tyrest’s words. 

Tyrest regarded him with the hint of a smile on his lips. “Draw closer,” he murmured. 

Those images suddenly became much harder to ignore. 

Star Saber steeled his nerves and did as Tyrest bade him. 

“I have been thinking,” Tyrest mused, “of a matter that will require your assistance.” 

Star Saber did not know what to say to that, so he nodded to indicate his willingness to help. 

“I have been struggling as of late,” Tyrest said, extending his forearm. 

Star Saber was accustomed to the little drill holes that pocked Tyrest’s frame. At first he had found them disconcerting, even disturbing, but now he understood their purpose. Pain could be used to focus the mind and purify the spirit. Suffering was a sacrifice pleasing to Primus. Yet Star Saber could see at a glance that there were more holes than ever before in Tyrest’s arm. He could foresee that too many of them would become a problem. 

“The meditation of the drill cannot be my only method of purging my guilt, atoning for my sin and focusing my thoughts,” Tyrest explained. “If for no other reason than that the structural integrity of my frame may be compromised should I exceed the ability of my repair nanites to compensate for the stigmata.” 

Star Saber nodded again, not wishing to insult Tyrest, yet agreeing with his evaluation. 

“I am hopeful,” Tyrest continued, “that you will be amenable to helping me with an alternative.” 

Star Saber tried to think of what that alternative might be. It seemed, though, that Tyrest already had something in mind. His hand came to rest the inside of Star Saber’s thigh. 

Star Saber startled. He wasn’t used to being touched in this way. His thoughts, of course, went straight into the gutter. 

Just as he was dragging them back out by telling himself that Tyrest could not possibly be coming on to him, Tyrest stroked Star Saber’s leg in a manner that left no room for doubt. 

“M-my lord?” Star Saber stammered. 

Tyrest immediately lifted his hand. “No?” he inquired. 

# 

Tyrest had to admit that he was disappointed. He pressed his lips together, determined not to let it show on his face. He’d laid down judgment often enough on mechanisms who’d thought that their rank or their reputation placed them above the law. And, of course, no one was safe from Primus’s divine decree. He would not order Star Saber to accept his affections; nor would he allow Star Saber to feel pressured into compliance by making him feel it was wrong to refuse. 

Yet Tyrest wondered if he had truly misread those looks that Star Saber so often gave him. Particularly when he thought that Tyrest wasn’t watching. 

Star Saber’s optics were wider than Tyrest had ever seen them, and such a beautiful shade of oceanic blue. “N-not before,” he stuttered. 

Tyrest realized that Star Saber had misunderstood the question. He’d thought Tyrest had been asking if he’d done such things previously. 

Tyrest found that he was delighted to discover that Star Saber had no previous experience. His shining sword, so righteous and so pure. 

“And now?” Tyrest purred. He raised his hand to Saber’s chin. Star Saber noticeably did not pull away. Tyrest wished he could see the mech’s face underneath his mask. 

“But…Primus…” 

“I recognize that the Circle of Light were celibate,” Tyrest said. He noted that Star Saber had not outright rejected his advance. “Withdrawn from one another as well as the rest of the universe.” 

“Dai Atlas said that denial of the pleasures of the frame focused the mind on the pleasures of the spark.” 

“And is Dai Atlas the mouthpiece of Primus?” 

“No,” Star Saber breathed. “You are.” 

Tyrest could easily imagining Star saber biting his lip under the mask. Tyrest wondered if Star Saber even had lips. He rather hoped so. 

“Did…” Star Saber began hesitantly. He paused, summoned his nerve, and blurted his question. “Did Primus decree that I be your…yours?” 

It was the hardest thing Tyrest had ever done to say no. _Yes_ would have given him everything he wanted. Yet not even Tyrest was above the law, or above God. 

“Not in so many words,” Tyrest said, “but Primus _did_ inspire me to seek divine ecstasy, the slightest taste of our future union with Him, the release of negativity, the inspiration of nirvana…with a willing partner. I am to use my own judgment in the selection of that partner.” 

“And you chose me,” Star Saber breathed. 

“Who _else_ would I choose?” Tyrest asked, as his fingers sought out the catch to Star Saber’s faceplate. 

“I don’t know. Someone with…experience? Skill?” 

Tyrest smiled as he found the latch and popped it open. It fell to one side, dangling from a chain. 

Star Saber did indeed have lips. He was licking them now. 

“Someone with a pretty frame? They say speedsters are desirable…” 

“As are jets,” Tyrest said, reaching out to pet Star Saber’s wings. 

Star Saber almost choked. “But I am…I am just…” 

“The sword of Primus,” Tyrest said. “The beacon to light my way. The _only_ mech who will understand me when I say that these are acts of worship, pleasing to the Guiding Hand. Who could understand interface as an act of union, as a foreshadowing of the day when All Are One. For Primus has spoken to me, and Primus has told me so.” 

“I believe,” Star Saber whispered. 

Chief Justice Tyrest bent his head and claimed Star Saber’s mouth with his own. 

# 

Lockdown was no Functionist, but every once in a while he admitted that Sentinel Prime _had_ made a few valid points. For example, the whole conjunx endura thing was absolutely disgusting. So to see Chief Justice Tyrest and Star Saber carrying on like this brought a sour taste to Lockdown’s mouth. 

Lockdown would admit that a mechanism couldn’t help it if he was attracted to someone. It was the _acting_ on it that was the problem. Lockdown had seen what kind of a mess could happen in a military unit where the members were openly infatuated with one another (rather than keeping their minds on their jobs), seriously involved with one another (placing each other’s well-being over the well-being of the unit and the success of the mission) or, worst of all, breaking up with one another, affecting unit cohesion in ways that often proved fatal. It was why Lockdown forbade romance between members of his crew. 

And where would Lockdown be now if, all those centuries ago, he’d paid any attention to that pretty teal helicopter who always gave him turbofox optics? He doubted he’d be living life on his own terms with a fat bank account. Discipline was the key: the self-discipline to ignore those feelings that interfered with one’s independence and success. 

It was dismaying to see _Tyrest_ of all people lacking that discipline. 

It was also _gross_. 

And what in the Pit had happened to _Star Saber_? A few moments ago, Lockdown would have bet that Star Saber had no clue how his own interface equipment worked. Now Lockdown could only hope that he wouldn’t have to see Star Saber using it right in front of him. 

Lockdown was a practical mech. In the face of trouble, he sought an ally. He turned to Pharma, wondering what the good doctor made of this nauseating display. 

Pharma was staring at Tyrest and Star Saber with an expression that Lockdown could only describe as _jealous_. 

_Ugh_ . Lockdown wondered if he even wanted to know. 

In the end, though, knowledge was power and should his arrangement with Tyrest ever turn unfavourable, it was worth his while to investigate every bit of potential leverage he could get. Lockdown turned to Pharma and whispered, “Envious, hm? Of which one?” 

“ _Both_ ,” Pharma uttered. 

Lockdown had to admit he was shocked that the prim little doctor would so easily and openly admit such a perversion. “You want to frag them _both_?” 

Pharma turned to him with a grimace. “No. I’m _envious_ of them both.” 

Lockdown felt as though he and Pharma were each having slightly different conversations. “But if you’re not envious with one for having that kind of attention from the other…” 

“I’m envious of them having a partner right here on hand,” Pharma explained. He pouted. “My courtmate is so far away. Have you seen him?” 

Lockdown didn’t have a chance to say he didn’t care before Pharma withdrew a small holoprojector and activated it. A tiny three dimensional image formed atop the projector. Lockdown realized with some surprise that he recognized the mechanism. Pretty much the entire Decepticon military would recognize Autobot Chief Medical Officer Ratchet. He was right under Whirl on the “capture, do not kill” list. 

“Oh, Ratchet,” Pharma swooned, clasping his hands together and almost dropping the holoprojector. 

Lockdown tried not to gag. “Will he be…visiting at some point?” That was another thing courtmates did: run off to clandestine meetings, which endangered confidential information, operational security, and emergency response. Lockdown felt uncomfortable. He might have to seriously re-think his role in Tyrest’s operation. If he could find another client who paid so well. 

Pharma sighed dramatically. “I hope so. If I see him again…I may never let him go…” Pharma started to giggle. It was like the sound of static, irritating and uncomfortable. 

But not half as uncomfortable as Lockdown would be if he stayed in this room any longer. Star Saber was kissing Tyrest back…or trying to. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing. There was a sound that Lockdown could only describe as _slurping._

“No, like _this_ ,” Tyrest instructed, and then demonstrated. 

Lockdown put his arm around Pharma’s shoulders. 

“Unhand me,” the doctor sniffed. “I won’t be killing time with you while I wait for my dear Ratchet. Not even to make Ratchet jealous.” 

“How about to give our esteemed employer and his right hand mechanism a little privacy?” 

“Well. I suppose there’s that.” Pharma let Lockdown turn him around and lead him out of the room. “So where precisely are we going?” 

Lockdown still wasn’t sure that he liked Pharma all that much, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and the less anyone know about what was going on across the room, the better. Lockdown thought quickly. “Out back. I’m going to give you a few lessons on how to use that chainsaw.” 


End file.
